Appearing in the series "Basic
Bioethics," this book has four divisions: (1) "The Science and
Background of Human Embryonic Stem Cells," (2) "Raising the Ethical
Issues," (3) "Angles of Vision," and (4) "Public
Discourse, Oversight, and the Role of Research in Society." The book's
twenty chapters are written by nineteen writers of different religious and
scientific backgrounds.

This book encourages a very necessary
debate: Should science engage unlimitedly in embryonic stem cell research? Is an
embryo a human, and if not, when does "human" life start? How do we
view pluripotent cells, which can grow into many different human organs?
Answering these questions is difficult, but decisions should not be left to the
ethicists employed by pharmaceutical companies. If they are, the end results may
be what is described by Gilbert Meilaender: "÷ we may sometimes have to
deny ourselves the handiest means to an undeniably good end. In this case the
desired means will surely involve the creation of embryos for research and then
their destruction. The human will, seeing a desired end, takes control,
subjecting to its desire even the living human organism" (p. 144).

The government or some oversight committee
should be involved in making these decisions. Cynthia Cohen writes that "a
public oversight body is required that will monitor this work as it is carried
out across the country. The body would also prepare for the prospect that
significant issues of public concern related to the use of cloning and germ
interventions will have to be addressed" (p. 220).

How do we decide when an embryo becomes a
human being? I like the approach of some Jewish writers who look at this
question from a Hebrew Bible perspective. There are other views presented in
this book, and they all add to the discussion and provide information for
considering this most important question.

"Torture the data until it
confesses!" It was 1955; the research for Professor X was not giving the
expected results. I looked up in horror, for if my physics education had taught
me anything, it was that honesty was not the "best" policy, it was the
"only" policy. Thankfully, it was immediately obvious that my mentor
was not at all serious!

This book is extremely disturbing to an
idealist, and I confess to being one. If only ten percent of the stories
related here are factual, then there are "scientists" in abundance who
simply do not subscribe to normative professional ethics. For monetary gain,
they are not shy about arguing "junk science," citing only favorable
evidence while ignoring the contrary, thereby risking not only their own
reputations, but also that of the profession we all love. The authors cite an
abundance of instances, some involving scientists of nationwide stature.
Frankly, I felt sick as I read this book.

It is an expos» of the dishonest policies
that all too often lie behind the making of "industry experts." The
authors show how easy it is to buffalo the media, and by extension, the public,
by pseudoscientific claims made by "real" scientists whose
intellectual heritage is that of nineteenth- century snake oil salesmen.

The authors, who are associated with the
nonprofit Center for Media and Democracy, pull few punches, naming names and
footnoting incriminating actions. Suppose you were offered $10,000 to write a
short letter for the Tobacco Institute to the Journal of the American
Medical Association supporting their cause. According to this book, one
biostatistician did so, and the letter was published. Would you accept over
$600,000 in consulting fees from a certain company and then not mention this
when defending their product in Congressional hearings on that product's safety?
A well-known scientist did. He testified in the Nestl» infant formula marketing
story (pp. 256-7).

There are many stories like these. In all
of them, some scientists "sold their souls" for personal gain,
disgracing themselves and their profession. The book makes a strong case for
complete disclosures of corporate influences and possible financial conflicts
for those who write in scientific journals and testify as "experts" in
Congressional hearings.

The authors also argue long and hard for
the well- known "precautionary principle," which, simply stated,
disallows products and services from the marketplace until they are reasonably
and rationally checked out. But today's regulatory system, they argue, allows
almost anything to be released unless it is "proven unsafe," meaning
measurable harm can be shown. In other words, preventative action cannot be
taken until the damage has already occurred.

To conclude this review, I will illustrate
its disturbing message by telling an old, stale joke.

Why do they bury scientists twelve
feet down?
Because, deep down, they are really good people.
Oops! Not funny! That should be some other profession, not
"scientists!"

After reading this book you will not be so
sure. Other professions have their share of shysters. So does the scientific
profession. The public just has not picked up on us yet.

The book is a "keeper" and is
highly recommended. But it is not "happy" reading. It is clear
that far too many in our profession have lost their way. Are they a small
minority? I would like to think so. Do they have a bad influence in our society?
Yes. Is this a good thing? Clearly, no. Can anything be done? You'll have to
answer that for yourself. Edmund Burke once said: "Nobody makes a greater
mistake than the person who does nothing because only a little can be
done." At least, buy the book. And then tell people about it.

Peacocke, theologian and biochemist,
promises in this slim volume to reunite science and religion, which he terms
"worlds at war." Peacocke has published over 200 papers and twelve
books on this topic and similar subjects, and received the Templeton Foundation
Prize in 1995 for his best-known work, Theology for a Scientific Age.
He is currently director of the Ian Ramsey Centre for the Study of Science and
Religion at Oxford University.

Peacocke has a view of Christianity that
differs greatly from more conventional (classical) views. On page 31, he rejects
the notion of "faith seeking understanding," which for many of us in
the ASA has been exactly what we thought we were about, and argues "I would
urge that the only defensible theology is one that consists of understanding
seeking faith ÷ in which 'understanding' must include that of the natural and
human worlds which the sciences ÷ have unveiled." He (properly, I think)
suggests that the inference to the best explanation (IBE) principle must be, in
all investigations, scientific or religious, the "rule of the game."
But then he makes other assumptions. On page 34, he writes, "÷ there is
no evidence for any existing entities other than those emerging from the natural
world." He "damns with faint praise" the Scriptures writing:
"It (the Bible) remains an irreplaceable resource in our exploration
towards God. Yet ÷" (p. 35). Peacocke rejects classical theism, following
the arguments of Hume. Miracles do not (and did not) happen, much of what the
Gospels report as the sayings of Jesus are too problematical to accept
(particularly those in the Gospel of John), and if one is "scientifically
educated," one understands all this-- for such a person "÷ it is
incoherent ever to accept the presupposition that God intervenes in the created
processes of the world ÷ A God who intervenes could only be regarded ÷ as
being a kind of semi-magical arbitrary Great Fixer or occasional Meddler ÷"
(p. 57).

Peacocke calls himself a panentheist,
carefully differentiating that position from pantheism, and contrasting it with
what he terms "supernatural theism," or what most persons understand
as classical theism, of which Christianity is a major part. He also uses the
term "theistic naturalism" to describe his stance, as does David Ray
Griffin, also a self-described panentheist. Griffin examines the
religion/science question in a much more detailed manner than Peacocke in his
book Religion and Scientific Naturalism. Still another modern
panentheistic writer is Marcus Borg, who, in The Meaning of Jesus,
debates this theological view with fellow scholar N. T. Wright, a conservative.

Is Peacock's book worth reading? I think
it is. It is a "keeper" in my library. As a "supernatural
theist," I learned much from this book about panentheism, and where it
necessarily leads. It does not, I believe, lead to a rejection of the Christian
faith, but it does point to a vastly different, and weaker, version of that
faith, one, for example, in which petitionary prayer is a whistle while crossing
the graveyard, and a god (God?) who is strangely impotent. But read this book
for yourself; at least check it out from the library. It is worth that much
anyway. Panentheism is alive and well in theological and scientific dialog
today, and we ignore it at our peril.

The relationship between science and
Christian faith is, of course, the theme of this journal and thus quite familiar
to readers of this review. What McGrath contributes in this first volume of a
multi-volume work is a careful exploration of this relationship with insights
from history and philosophy. This volume gives an explanation of the approach
(in 78 pages) and then concentrates on the concept of nature. Subsequent volumes
will deal with reality (supporting a realist position) and theory (dealing with
how science and theology represent reality).

McGrath is a careful analytic thinker and
expositor. The argument here is very detailed and includes dialogue with and
response to many other thinkers from the ancient classical period through the
history of the church and its critics, up to the present period. The
presentation is thoroughly documented. While this is important for a work of
this type, at times some readers might wish for the compressed summary of the
author's own views that, while shaped by his interaction with other thinkers,
are found only after considerable and careful reading. Perhaps another form of
presentation for a more general audience will appear.

The major thrust of this volume is that
nature is not an univocally defined concept. Our sense of nature is shaped by
the thinking we bring to our perception of it. In part, nature is a socially
constructed notion. However, as the author insists, only in part--there is a
reality that we aspire to understand, some postmodernists notwithstanding.
Creation is presented as a term sometimes to be preferred by Christians. Karl
Barth's resistance to a natural theology is discussed at length and set in the
context of the broad stream of Christian thought that is more accepting of a
legitimacy in natural theology.

Those who affirm the statement of faith of
the ASA will find this an attractive book. It provides detailed analysis and
argument for positions that many of us may hold naively, or at least without
understanding some of their historical and philosophical contexts. It is worthy
of careful study. I look forward to reading the other two projected volumes in
the series.

Reviewed by David T. Barnard,
University of Regina, Regina, SK, S4S 3X4 Canada.

Evangelicals have long sought to identify
Christian influence on scientists and science "writ large"--the result
being what historian Colin Russell has called "a massive debt." The
role of the "Puritans," prominent figures such as Harvey, Kepler,
Newton, Descartes, and Faraday have received increasing attention in the last
several decades as the winds of historiography have moved from a wooden
positivism to include the place of cultural factors--including religion--in the
development of science. Van der Meer brought an international cast of historians
and philosophers of science to a 1998 conference on this topic at the Pascal
Centre for Advanced Studies in Faith at Redeemer College, Ancaster, Ontario,
Canada.

John Brooke's "Religious Belief and
the Content of the Sciences" offers a fine-grained analysis of ways that
religious belief (unbelief) may shape the content and culture of the sciences.
Brooke is well aware of the linguistic problems involving "science"
and "religion" and the temptation to make apologetic points or a pithy
quote.

Definitive answers to how belief shaped or
was shaped by science are hard to come by:

The more subtle approach is to recognize
that religious beliefs and practices can shape worldviews, that worldviews may
find expression in a commitment to metaphysical principles that govern theory
construction, and that these, in turn, may govern the assent one might
give to particular explanatory theories ÷ religious beliefs may not be so
readily detectable in the execution of a piece of scientific research but may
nevertheless have an indirect, regulative role in conferring different degrees
of legitimacy on competing influences that might be drawn from it (p. 6).

Brooke ranges widely over scientific
history to examining ways that "cross-traffic" can occur. Religious
practices, doctrines, propositions derived from a religious culture, pious
enthusiasm for a particular scientific explanation, and the use of religious
preferences where data is insufficient are among many other patterns of
influence that have been suggested. Brooke cautiously offers three kinds of
criteria for testing claims of the role of religious belief in shaping
scientific content. They are:

1. Scientific and religious interests
are integral to a larger enterprise, which may then be said to confer a unity
on what might be seen as disparate endeavors;
2. Criteria which demonstrate that the scientist took religion seriously;
3. A polemical context where a scientific program is designed to support a
particular religious notion (p. 26).

Stephen Wystra seeks to help us to
distinguish metaphysical beliefs from religious beliefs so that we can focus
more directly on the specific role of religion in science. Wystra finds a
"believed-believing" distinction to be helpful. Here "religious
beliefs might differ from metaphysical beliefs not just in the content of the
believed, but also in the character, the how and the why, of the
believing."

To take history of science seriously is
to let the historical figures we study surprise us with their unexpected
connections. As we see how the enterprise we now call "science" has
descended from so many of these unexpected connections, our own initial
pigeonholes (including our categories of the "scientific," the
"metaphysical," and the "religious") begin to
interpenetrate in new ways (p. 46).

The Case Study chapters include Islamic
and Jewish studies on early modern science. Margaret Osler critiques the efforts
of historians who downplay the role of final causes in the Scientific
Revolution. "'God of gods, and Lord of Lords': The Theology of Isaac
Newton's General Scholium to the Principia" offers a thorough
analysis of Newton's views on the design argument and God (theistic, biblically
based, and antitrinitarian). The influence of religion on later astronomy is
illustrated in Michael J. Crowe's "Astronomy and Religion (1780-1915): Four
Case Studies Involving Ideas of Extraterrestrial Life."

Evolution receives attention from Martin
Fichman, Philip R. Sloan, Richard England, and Geoffrey Cantor. Sloan offers a
counter to those who see the later Darwin as agnostic toward religion. England
notes that Darwin's followers developed systems that incorporated religious
elements.

Darwinism banished the near deism of
Paleyan natural theology and opened the way to an immanentist theology of
nature more compatible with Trinitarian Christian doctrine ÷ Darwin, by
proving that all organic structures developed by the natural law of natural
selection, had in effect, extended human understanding of divine action (p.
280).

THE RISE AND FALL OF MODERN
MEDICINE by James Le Fanu. New York: Carroll and Graf Publishers, 2000.
448 pages, index, illustrated with 16 pages of black-and-white photographs.
Hardcover; $26.00. ISBN: 078670732.

Le Fanu, a medical columnist for both the Daily
and Sunday Telegraph as well as a writer for the Times, the Spectator,
and GQ magazine, lives in London. He tells stories of medical advance
that typified medicine from post-WWII to the mid-1970s. Sometimes it is
difficult to know whether he is referring to a trend in the US or the UK. Le
Fanu argues that since the mid-1970s, progress in medicine has slowed because of
a declining interest in clinical research, few new medicines discovered or
developed, failed social medical theories, and the inability to realize the
potential of genetic engineering. Le Fanu calls this slowdown "the
Fall."

Le Fanu thinks we need to reclaim the lost
art of clinical research performed by practicing physicians. He notes that the
Postgraduate Medical School in London and Mayo Clinic have changed the way
medicine is done from treating the patient to considering "what we can get
out of his case in order to do better next time" (p. 170). This new
approach, coupled with the sense of invincibility that came after the war years,
created an atmosphere where people believed any problem could be solved.
Stricter ethical regulations in research and competing interests have
compromised the quantity and quality of research being done since the late
1970s.

In the 1930s, there were few drugs
available, but by the 1960s there were thousands. Most of these drugs were
discovered fortuitously. Why? At that time, biochemistry and cell biology were
not well understood, so researchers just followed "leads" or hunches.
It was a very productive time of pharmaceutical research. He states that the
decline in discovery has been because pharmaceutical research moved in the
direction of searching for (or synthesizing) the perfect drug based on a clear
understanding of the biochemistry of the disorder. He seems to be making a case
for research being less systematic and/or less regulated.

Le Fanu is critical of what he calls
"The Social Theory of Disease" and its proponents, such as Geoffrey
Rose and Ancel Keys. Le Fanu contends that lifestyle changes, such as reducing
fat and salt intake, do not reduce cholesterol in the blood and do not reduce
heart disease. He suggests a return to a rigid biomedical model to guide
all health research. In fact, he questions the value of the entire dis- cipline
of epidemiology! He contends that contradictory results are the norm in
epidemiology, blaming these contradictions on selective omission of facts and
the exclusion of negative data. In contrast, Le Fanu praises doctors who treat
the sick. He implies that medical doctors should guide the health care industry.

The fourth reason for "the Fall"
since the mid-1970s is overuse of new medical technology. For example, although
much ballyhooed, the potential of genetic engineering has not been realized.
Furthermore, neither genetic screening of fetuses in utero nor gene
therapy have proven practical.

On the one hand, Le Fanu is making a
strong case for a strict biomedical approach to health care. On the other
hand, he is critical of current biomedical research, reduced to experts trying
to devise health solutions based on their understanding of cell biology, an
approach Le Fanu finds expensive and seldom able to produce health-benefitting
results. He does not make it clear what he thinks needs to be done to resume
progress in medicine.

Regarding the so-called "Fall"
in medicine, the author completely ignores the patient's perspective. For
example, there is no analysis of whether patient dissatisfaction with medical
care may be responsible for the increase in use of non-allopathic medicine in
recent years.

This book has interesting historical
tidbits such as how a single condition, such as hypertension, has influenced
world events. For example, how might postwar events have been different if
President Roosevelt and Josef Stalin had controlled their blood pressure
(Roosevelt died of a stroke in 1945 and Stalin died of complications due to high
blood pressure in 1953)?

There are a few mistakes in the book, such
as calling the University of Minnesota, the University of Minneapolis, and
misspelling Stanford University. However, the book is well written, even if
not always convincing. Medical doctors and readers interested in the history of
modern medicine will find it provocative.

A book about Soviet science written by a
scientist familiar with the system is unusual. The writer's aim is to expose the
responses of scientists to moral choices when working under a totalitarian
state. Those who acquiesced, betraying their calling, used the Soviet political
system for personal gain, but, in doing so, lost credibility with colleagues.
Those who did not follow this path, were sometimes executed wrongly, and then,
in some instances, rehabilitated later.

Birstein, a geneticist and historian, now
lives in New York. He has the credentials to write about biology and medicine in
the Soviet Union, because he was trained and worked there. The book has a sound
binding and clear type-face with a few illustrations. The Table of Contents and
list of abbreviations are followed by a carefully constructed introduction, an
extensive section of referenced materials, and biographical sketches of the
characters.

Birstein's access to secret materials in
Russian is not available in the West, and his knowledge of research
establishments allows him to place the events described within their actual
context. He discusses the influence of the pseudo-biology of Trofim Lysenko, an
uneducated agronomist, who opposed Mendel's findings and Darwin's theory and
denied that genes were the basis of inheritance. Lysenko destroyed Soviet
genetics and geneticists, many thousands of whom lost their academic positions.
Publication of their work was refused and psychological pressure was exerted on
them. Those with little training moved into the top positions. In this way,
Stalin, the KGB, and the Party gained control over science.

The Germans at Buchenwald and the
scientists in Moscow substituted humans who were about to be executed for
animals in lethal medical experiments. Many of these died terrible deaths,
poisoned with mustard gas, ricin, and then curare as a search was made for
lethal materials to liquidate enemies of the Party. The infectious agents,
plague and anthrax, were tested and became available for wider use. The
knowledge gained about these materials was restricted to a small cohort. The
threat of biological and chemical warfare in World War II is now shown to have
been a very real one. In Birstein's opinion, all of these activities could be
equated with the crimes outlined at the Nurenberg doctors' trial, but those
responsible in the Soviet Union escaped this route of accountability. The author
is not blind to the situation in the USA, UK, and Canada where vast weapon
stocks of mustard gas led to army personnel in World War II being exposed to
these poisons.

Birstein describes a number of other
fields of study such as a search for "truth" drugs as a means of
extracting "truthful testimonies" from the accused during
interrogation. Mairanovsky, a leading investigator in this unit, thought that
the Germans lagged behind them in the techniques used.

I believe this book presents a true story
about Soviet science. In general, it confirms the contentions of Judith Miller,
et al., in Germs: Biological Weapons and America's Secret War (2001).
Birstein expresses concern that Russian technologies might accompany workers who
seek better remuneration elsewhere, thus providing for the possibility of
spreading terrorism. He also raises the issues associated with an emerging
neo-Stalinist Russia.

Birstein has a chilling message for all
when he says that uncontrolled secret research, wherever it takes place, may
lead to tests on unsuspecting humans. This year both the USA and the UK have
indicated that they intend to stop some publications in order to control what
scientists will be permitted to say. The author, with a carefully constructed
argument, achieves his aim set out above. The book will be of special interest
to ethicists, historians of this era, and those engaged in biomedical studies.
Other sections may be of general interest to some readers.

Protestant and Catholic writers have
expended many pages and much venom over the centuries about the reception of
Copernicanism among both church and society in the early modern period. More
recent works have been considerably less strident in tone and much more careful
in their handling of the primary materials associated with this period in
seeking to understand the impact of Copernicus and his disciples. This monograph
is a monumental interpretation that builds on the best in prior work and then
extends it into a nuanced discussion of the interplay among astronomical theory,
astronomical observations, contemporary theology, scriptural exegesis, and
natural philosophy.

The reading of the heavens and Scripture
in the early modern period turns out to be far more complicated than many
discussions of this period infer. Howell, Director of the John Henry Newman
Institute of Catholic Thought and adjunct professor of religious studies at the
University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana, cogently dissects beliefs and
behaviors of key players in this drama. He introduces the notion of a convergent
realism to describe the approach of Copernicus, Brahe, Peucer, Rothman, and
Kepler to the physical world. This orientation incorporates empirical and
theological perspectives into a holistic version of the universe without being
slavish to either perspective.

These thinkers believed firmly that the
Bible was relevant to cosmology but denied that the Bible had scientific
content. On the other hand, they held that theological truths expressed in the
Bible were interwoven into nature in subtle and amazing ways. Howell shows how
their thinking was much more closely aligned with many Catholic thinkers than
was formerly believed and lays to rest any simplistic notions that the
Protestant genius was due to literal hermeneutics or Copernicanism versus anti-
Copernicanism sentiments.

This book also makes clear the range of
views held by the principal players in this important astronomical drama while
explicating the nature of their shared goals and understandings. As is true with
so many historical events, the actual truth always appears far more complicated
than at first glance. Howell has produced a first-rate study to which all
subsequent work must pay homage. He also has provided an enormously useful case
study pertinent to contemporary discussions about the relationships among the
sciences, the Bible, theologies, and believers. Much of the nuanced discussion
within this book is quite pertinent to ASA discussions over the years about this
topic and points the way forward in a useful manner to perhaps a more
satisfactory exposition and understanding of this complex relationship.

Maybe Michael Veatch gave the clearest and
shortest formulation of the reason for this book when he asked: "How can a
career in mathematics be of service in God's Kingdom, and participate in
redemption of our culture?" (p. 247). Ten writers provide answers to this
question.

The writers indicate that mathematics may
be traced back to pagan Greek philosophers and their idea that the universe is
accessible to rational analysis and reducible to a small number of principles.
This has influenced modern views which hold that math is logical, objective and
therefore disconnected from persons. (The Chinese rejected the universal power
of human theory, which paradoxically led to greater contact between person and
mathematics.)

I was disappointed that the book did not
refer to the booklet by Gene Chase and Calvin Jongsma "Bibliography of
Christianity and Mathematics." Chase and Jongsma list books relating
Christian faith to mathematics during the twentieth century.

Today the trend is toward mathematization
of all areas of knowledge. Therefore, a Christian philosophy in all areas of
life, including mathematics, becomes important. Concerns about what math is, how
it is used, what affect it has on society, and how it is used to build the
kingdom of God are important for everyone. Since the book shows as well that all
areas are now being mathematized, it should be of interest to all people working
in any area of scholarship where math is used.

Hunter was senior vice president of
Seagull Technology, Inc., a high tech firm in Silicon Valley, and was completing
a Ph.D. in biophysics at the University of Illinois when this book was first
published. This book, which appears to be his first, is endorsed by Phillip
Johnson, Michael Behe, William Dembski, and Stephen Meyer; authors who are
all associated with the Intelligent Design movement. Although this book
does not deal directly with the concept of Intelligent Design, it is easy to see
from the content why proponents of this concept would be supportive of
Hunter's conclusions.

The goals of the author are twofold. The
first goal addressed in chapters two through four is to show that
the scientific evidence for the process of macroevolution is not as
convincing as evolutionary biologists would lead us to believe. In chapter two,
problems with the evidence from comparative anatomy are discussed. They include
the ambiguous nature of homologies, the problem of measuring fitness, the
subjective nature of the argument from embryology, and the lack of evidence from
molecular comparisons. The question of how small-scale change (microevolution)
can actually lead to the large-scale changes required by macroevolution is
addressed in chapter three, with the author arguing that biological modification
within populations is limited and that small- scale changes appear to be
bounded. The evidence for macroevolution from the fossil record is challenged in
chapter four. Included in this chapter is a brief discussion of the concept of
"irreducible complexity" and the problem it poses for an evolutionary
process which relies on the mechanisms of chance and opportunism.

Hunter's second goal, which is actually
the main goal of the book, is to show how deeply wedded evolution is
to its metaphysical presuppositions. While this connection is introduced in
the first four chapters of the book, it is further developed from a historical
perspective in chapters five through eight. Hunter argues that negative theology
has been woven into the fabric of evolutionary thought from the time of Charles
Darwin up to the present. Darwin's theory of evolution was a solution to the
problem of natural evil in that it distanced God from the creation by
interposing a natural law--his law of natural selection. The idea that God would
never have created a world with so much suffering and inefficiency preceded
evolution historically and became the metaphysical landscape on which the theory
of evolution was constructed. Hunter contends that evolution's real problem is
not its metaphysical foundation, but the refusal of its proponents to
acknowledge this reliance upon theological premises. He concludes chapter eight
with the following statement; "Philosophy and science have always been
influenced by theology. This is especially true for evolution. The difference is
that evolution denies the influence" (p. 160).

In chapter nine, the last chapter of the
book, various attempts to maintain and reconcile orthodox views of both theism
and evolution are examined. Individuals included in this brief survey are
biochemist Terry Gray, professor emeritus of physics Howard Van Till, biology
professor Kenneth Miller, and theology professor John Haught. Instead of
presenting their versions of theistic evolution as viable options, Hunter uses
them to point out how difficult it is to believe in Darwin's theory of evolution
and in a sovereign God who is in complete control of the world at the same time.
He goes on to suggest that these more recent attempts to reconcile God and
evolution are actually quite similar to the pre-Darwinian metaphysic of a
Creator who is distanced from the world and, more important, from its evil and
suffering.

While the problems with the evidence for
evolution presented in chapters two through four have been addressed more
extensively by other authors, to my knowledge, the story that Hunter tells in
the latter chapters of the book has not been previously published. His
historical survey of the relationship between evolutionary thought and negative
theology is documented with references to the original source material in the
endnotes. The book as a whole is easy to read and is therefore accessible to
anyone who has an interest in the past and present interactions between
evolutionary thought, the problem of evil, and the doctrine of God. This book
will most likely be widely read and well received among those of Christian
faith. It will be interesting to see how evolutionary biologists and historians
of science will respond.

Haught, the Landegger distinguished
professor of theology at Georgetown University, is well qualified to author this
volume on God and evolution for Paulist's "101 Questions" series, for
he was been thinking about this topic for many years. Following his recently
published God After Darwin: A Theology of Evolution, the present volume
considers the same topics in a question-and-answer format. The questions are
comprehensive in their range; the answers, clear and succinct. Haught
incorporates into his Roman Catholic perspective the ideas of a number of
theologians; including Karl Rahner and Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, and
evangelicals Jurgen Moltmann and Howard Van Till.

The 101 questions and their answers are
organized into several categories: I. Darwin's Dangerous Idea; II. Darwin and
Theology; III. Creationism; IV. Darwin and Design; V. Divine Providence and
Natural Selection; VI. Evolution, Suffering and Redemption; and VII. Teilhard de
Chardin and Alfred North Whitehead. The questions raise many serious and
difficult issues about evolution, and Haught meets them head-on. In the process,
he often demonstrates that a theory or fact about the evolution of life, which
seems to rule out the need for God, can be understood in a way that invites
the reader into a new and deeper understanding of God's creativity and
relationship to the universe.

For example, in his response to the
question, "Could life have originated by chance?" Haught argues that
accepting the notion that life may have emerged by a random occurrence invites
us to conceive of God "as the ultimate depth and ground of nature's
resourcefulness [rather] than as a magical intruder" (p. 23). He adds:

It is unseemly to picture a divine
"designer" stitching atoms and molecules together in a special act
of "design" in order to make the first living cell. Rather, we
should think of the universe, in Howard Van Till's words, as "richly
endowed" in a comprehensive way for giving birth eventually to life from
within its own inner storehouse of creativity" (p. 24).

The same may be said about all of the new
creatures that have emerged into being through random mutations worked on by
natural selection (and other processes) over immense periods of time.

Along with an accurate (though
abbreviated) summation of the major features of evolutionary biology, Haught
develops a theology of evolution and forthrightly critiques--on theological
grounds--evolution's critics, young- earth creationists, and intelligent design
proponents as well as its materialist defenders. Their three positions, he
points out, exhibit the common error of conflating science with a belief system
that dictates the way its proponents will interpret scientific data. He offers
the readers suggestions on how to respond to, say, the literalism of the
creationists (and of the materialists!), and explains how intelligent design
advocates fail to distinguish between design as a theological concept and as a
scientific concept, thus bringing God in "as part of scientific
explanation" in a way that theologians should reject as vigorously as
scientists (p. 89).

In these and other sections, Haught
presents a concept of God and of Providence that he and his colleagues argue is
consonant with scientific evolution. As in his other writings, he challenges the
reader to think of God and God's relationship to the creation in ways that
depart from popular notions but are consistent with the God revealed in Holy
Scripture. He asks the reader to abandon the "Caesarian" God of
Christian history for the vulnerable and compassionate God of the Bible who with
infinite love allows an unfinished, emergent, and evolving creation to become
itself in all of its variety and mystery. Evolution is consonant with the
biblical God who calls to the world from the future, "luring" the
creation into greater dimensions of complexity and beauty (Whitehead) toward the
"Omega Point" to which all of creation and especially self-conscious
creation is drawn (Teilhard). This God exercises sovereignty and power not like
an absolute monarch of human governance but as the kenotic God revealed in Jesus
(Phil. 2:5-11): "God's power is manifested most fully in God's
self-emptying empowerment of the creation" (p. 115), and in God's
decision to share in and thus redeem the suffering of all creation through the
Incarnation and the Cross.

These comments are only highlights. The
text itself is replete with thought-provoking reflections on the God of
evolution. A valuable book for general audiences, it would especially serve as
an excellent resource for teachers and students.

OF THE PLURALITY OF WORLDS by
William Whewell. Edited with Introduction by Michael Ruse. Chicago: University
of Chicago Press, 2001. 510 pages. Paperback; $20.00. ISBN: 0226894363.

Whewell was the Master of Trinity College
at Cambridge for twenty-five years during the early- to mid-1800s. He wrote
numerous books on various topics from the theory of the scientific method, to
morals, to the 3rd Bridgewater Treatise. Of the Plurality of
Worlds is a fascinating look at a Christian struggling to come to grips
with data consistent with extraterrestrial life and the implications of this for
Christianity.

In the early 1800s, many new facts were
being discovered about the number of stars in the universe, both in the Milky
Way and in the nebulae, which we now call galaxies. A magnificent six-foot
reflecting telescope, built just a few years prior, was showing that the
Milky Way and many of the nebula did not consist of dust but of faint stars.
This vast number of stars caused many to believe, via analogical argument,
that the universe was widely peopled with other forms of intelligent life. The
newly discovered stars were analogous to our sun, and thus, by analogy, most
likely had numerous planets surrounding them. Those planets, by analogy with the
earth, were probably undergoing geological processes, just as occur on earth,
leading to similar conditions as exist on earth with similar populations (pp.
7-8). Ruse points out that Whewell himself had accepted this line of reasoning
in the 1830s but rejected it as he became older and was moving toward more
dependence upon revealed religion as opposed to natural theology.

Whewell's central question was "What
is man that thou art mindful of him?" Whewell argued against the idea that
God's attention to other life forms would make humans insignificant. First, he
claimed that astronomy could not show that earthlings were more insignificant
than geology had already shown them to be. After all, geology showed us that
humans were late appearing beings in a very old universe, previously empty of
intelligent life. Astronomy merely confirmed that it would take great lengths of
time for light to travel to earth from the stars. Secondly, he then attacked the
analogical argument by claiming that the newly resolved stars were not like our
sun. Indeed he claimed that these objects were merely dots of light and were
comets. In the "Dialogue on the Plurality of Worlds" at the back of
Ruse's edition, Whewell's contemporaries all objected to this characterization
claiming that it was common knowledge that these were stars and not comets.
Whewell dismissed their claim indirectly by merely claiming that the nebula were
not far away. That hardly addressed the issue of their nature.

Thirdly and most bizarrely, Whewell
protected his position by claiming that even if these objects were not comets,
the universe was metrically heliocentric. Whewell's universe made the sun the
largest object with everything, including the other stars, getting smaller in
size with distance. Our sun as the largest object in the universe maintained
humankind's importance in God's eyes. Again, the"Dialogue"
shows that his contemporaries were aghast at such a claim. Whewell retorted that
the entire pattern we see in systems is that a large body dominates a system,
and it is surrounded by smaller objects like the sun with its planets. Thus, the
sun is placed squarely in the center of Whewell's universe. Whewell
correctly showed the low probability for life on the other planets in our solar
system.

According to Ruse, Whewell was in between
a rock and a hard place. If you supported revealed religion, then observational
data so useful to natural theology became irrelevant. But the more Whewell
depended upon natural theology to support his religion, the more he opened
himself up to the specter of evolution which had just come on the intellectual
scene with the publication of Chamber's Vestiges. And if he denied
evolution, then an empty universe seems like a waste in that age when God would
waste nothing.

The book, as I said, is a fascinating look
at a distant struggle to come to grips with the conflict between observational
data and one's religion. It is an engaging study of this struggle.

FROM GENESIS TO GENETICS: The Case
of Evolution and Creationism by John A. Moore. Berkeley and Los
Angeles: University of California Press, 2002. xvi and 223 pages, references,
index. Hardcover; $27.50. ISBN: 0520224418.

Moore writes in an easy-to-read style
about the reaction of American Christians to the study of evolution in the
science curriculum. He wants to discuss the religion-versus- science debate, in
particular, the standoff between evolutionists and creationists. That
description is unfortunate, as it excludes those who believe that evolution and
creation are not opposites. Evolution may have been part of the creation
process.

Moore uses the King James Version of the
Bible in a way that suggests that "creationists" read the first
chapters literally. Many theologians, even when they accept the Bible as God's
Word, do not take Genesis 1-11 in that way. Moore's result is an incomplete
discussion of Genesis and the views of Bible-believing Christians. Even in the
nineteenth century, some orthodox theologians in Western Europe accepted the
fact that God created using evolution.

A consequence of Moore's position is that
he states that science and religion occupy different domains. To the contrary,
many Christians believe that religion involves all of life, including science.
If religion is excluded from part of life, does this not exclude God from part
of our life?

Silk is the head of astrophysics and
Savilian professor of astronomy in the department of physics at the University
of Oxford. He is the author of several other books on cosmology and cosmogony.
This book covers more than the title suggests. Its eighteen chapters deal not
only with the Big Bang itself, but also with the subsequent development of the
universe up to the present time and speculation about its future. Although Silk
does not identify it as such, it is clear that The Big Bang is intended
to be an introductory college textbook for a course in cosmology.

The first four chapters introduce
cosmology as a science, survey the history of cosmology, and provide a
background in observational astronomy, with special reference to the measurement
of distance and time, and survey the evidence for the Big Bang. These chapters
are factual and evidential in nature.

Chapters 5-7, in contrast, deal with
cosmological models. Silk surveys various models regarding the curvature of
space, the expansion of the universe following the singularity (i.e., the
beginning of the Big Bang), superstrings, quantum gravity, inflation, strings
(not to be confused with superstrings), particle formation and annihilation, and
mini-black holes--and all of these before the universe was one second old!

Chapters 8-16 are perhaps less
controversial; or rather, the topics covered are better integrated into a
coherent picture of the evolution of the universe from the end of the first
millisecond after the singularity to the present. Silk takes up the
thermonuclear detonation of the universe, the emergence of the primitive
fireball, the origin and evolution of galaxies and the theory of galaxy
formation, the clustering of galaxies, ratio galaxies and quasars, the formation
of stars, the morphology of galaxies, the origin of heavy elements and of the
planets, and the formation of earth and the emergence of life on earth. Chapters
17-18 deal with possible scenarios for the future of the universe and with
alternative cosmologies to the Big Bang.

The Big Bang is a thorough
introduction to the field of cosmology, but it is not for the casual reader.
Chapters 5-7, in particular, are apt to be confusing. I certainly found them so,
until I realized that Silk is simply presenting ideas currently being discussed
and debated by cosmologists, ideas that do not constitute a unified theoretical
scheme. (When I stopped trying to fit the pieces together, they made a lot more
sense!) Each section in these chapters should be read as an introduction to a
particular hypothesis or concept rather than as a part of a single model.
Nevertheless, even considering those hypotheses one by one, I did not find
Silk's discussion of them satisfying. I wished that he had either explained
some topics (in particular, superstrings, quantum gravity, strings, and
mini-black holes) more fully, or else omitted them entirely.

The Big Bang is written from a
secular perspective. It is, of course, incompatible with young-earth special
creationism (YEC). It is also incompatible in part with any old-earth
creationism (OEC) that posits direct divine intervention at various points in
time. Christians who, along with Howard Van Till, believe that God created the
world with a robust formational economy will find nothing theologically
objectionable in the book.

I recommend this book for anyone--YEC, OEC,
or Van Tillian--who wants to get an up-to-date picture of current cosmological
thinking and is willing to work for it. The material is accessible for the
reader with some background in physics; the reader who lacks a physics
background will struggle. One feature of this book that may make it superior to
others in the field is its incorporation of relatively recent observational
evidence obtained from microwave- detecting satellites and the Hubble telescope,
evidence of great importance for cosmological theory that was not available
until 1989 and thereafter.

Bonnette, chairman of the philosophy
department at Niagara University, received his Ph.D. from Notre Dame in 1970. He
has written one earlier book, Aquinas' Proofs for God's Existence, but
nothing in the area of anthropology.

This book has fourteen chapters with the
first third of the book devoted to evolutionary concepts like natural selection,
what is a species, the possibility of inter-specific evolution and scientific
creationism. The book then discusses topics like the origin of the human soul,
extraterrestrial life, the metaphysical structure of natural species, the first
humans, and the end of human evolution.

Bonnette argues for a progressive
creationist interpretation of earth history. He tries to show that evolution
does not really happen. He continually cites several unpublished works (c. 1950)
of an Australian named Austin M. Woodbury, who defines life in such a way that
it cannot transform (for Platonic category reasons). Woodbury asserts that any
existing being is its own category and thus transitional forms are not possible.
This defines the problem away. Bonnette, again citing Woodbury, argues that an
effect cannot be greater than its cause, which ignores the modern knowledge
coming out of nonlinear dynamics.

Bonnette then turns to the human soul and
offers Woodbury's definition of true intellect: speech, progress, knowledge of
relations, knowledge of immaterial objects. When these ideas are applied to the
fossil record, looking for the first human, Bonnette claims that intellective
activity is what one must find. He claims (p. 108) that such evidence appears in
the fossil record 700,000 years ago in the form of the symmetrical Acheulean
hand ax. The symmetry is not utilitarian and thus evidence of art and
aesthetics. He rejects Homo erectus as the tool-maker, saying that even
if one were found holding such a tool, it would be no more than a dog bringing
home the evening paper. He then cites Cremo and Thompson's Forbidden
Archaeology, for the concept that anatomically modern man existed that long
ago and was the tool-maker. This source is universally rejected by all
anthropologists!

The only strength in the book is
Bonnette's correct assessment of ape-language studies. Other than that,
Bonnette's anthropological knowledge is positively paleolithic! The average age
of his anthropological references being 1980 with only three references to the
literature of the 1990s. Indeed, the average age of the scientific reference is
1978. Because of this, the book abounds with falsified claims. He erroneously
claims that the only species of hominid found before two million years ago is
Australopithecus (there are at least four), that there has been no description
of Homo habilis (Tobias in 1991), that Australopithecus did not use
fire (they did at Swartkrans), that Acheulean handaxes first occur 700 thousand
years ago (the truth: 1.4 million years ago), that computers can only play chess
at a "routine level" (they have beaten the world champion), and claims
that animals cannot lie (baboons have been observed doing so). Furthermore, he
engages in intellectual equivocation, believing that any claims against the
scientific view made by anybody are all equally to be believed and taken
seriously. This tendency forces the reader to wade through lots of arguments
already known to be false.

Bonnette also appears to advocate the
rejection of observational data if it violates philosophical principles, thus
placing philosophy rather than observation as the arbiter of reality. Indeed, he
states that only the methodology of philosophy can give us true knowledge. This
retreat to a form of medieval scholasticism in which static substantial forms
are the standard and things are believed a priori rather than a posteriori makes
this book quaint even in its philosophical content.

Who would be interested in this book? I
was, until I saw the pitiful level of science. With an endorsement of Michael
Behe, it would imply that those of the Intelligent Design bent might be
interested in the book. The only problem is that with all the factual errors,
its ancient philosophical approach, and lack of discernment about good from bad
scientific arguments, anyone reading this book will depend upon it at their own
risk.

Miller is Senior Program Associate for the
Program of Dialogue, Science, Ethics and Religion at the American Association
for the Advancement of Science. This book is a collection of reprinted essays
that are organized into five different sections ranging from basic science
education to theological models and intelligent design. The first two sections
address the science of evolution. The first section explains the classic
Darwinian theory of evolution and is an attempt to provide an educational base
for the subsequent sections. The second section deals with how the theory of
evolution can be addressed to questions that go beyond Darwin. Topics include
the origin of life at its most rudimentary molecular level and the challenges of
evolution to explain the formation of molecules such as RNA and DNA. The lack of
evidence in the fossil record for gradual change of species is addressed in an
essay by Stephen Gould on the idea of punctuated equilibrium.

The remaining three sections discuss
historical, theological, and philosophical approaches to the issue. The third
section traces the historical development of the evolution-creationism issue and
includes an unflattering, but honest, assessment of the young earth creation
movement by Ronald Numbers. Progressive creationism and theistic evolution are
also mentioned. The latter part of the third and the entire fourth section
address philosophical and theological approaches to the interaction between
science and faith. The case for the separation of science and faith into two
different "magisteria," or areas of authority that are "nonoverlapping,"
is made by Stephen Gould and others. There is also an argument made by Elizabeth
A. Johnson for a "contact" approach which integrates the terminology
of evolution and the probability of quantum mechanics and evolution into a
theology of free will. It applies not only to persons but also to the physical
world to allow for a creation process which includes a record of life with the
many branches and dead ends as seen in the fossil record and explained by
evolution theory.

The fifth section addresses the
philosophical and scientific approach of intelligent design. The case for design
is made by William Dembski, Michael Behe, and Kenneth Miller. These authors
endeavor to cast doubt upon the probability of the evolution of the most
rudimentary forms of molecular structure for the origins of life, and the
evolution of "irreducible systems" in the area of biochemistry. An
attempt is also made to present intelligent design as a quantifiable science
rather than a philosophy. These essays are countered by critiques of intelligent
design by authors such as Fitelson and Grizzle. The sum of the critique is that
intelligent design is not a science, but a philosophy, and that the same
proposed quantitative means for measuring irreducibility can be favorable to
evolution theory.

Overall, the impression one takes from
this particular set of essays and the manner in which they are arranged is a
case for theistic evolution. Science is presented from the assumption of
evolution, young earth creationism is severely debunked, theological models
which are inclusive of chance and probability are proposed, and intelligent
design is presented and rebuffed. The book is weak in its lack of an honest
discussion of the testability and verifiability of evolution theory, though some
mention is made of bio-molecular and genetics techniques. Additional scientific
articles addressing the weaker points of evolutionary theory from a scientific
perspective would have allowed for a better discussion of the shortcomings of
current evolution theory. Some of the essays which fall into the category of
science education are also weak as scientific arguments. I think especially of
the essay on punctuated equilibrium by Gould and Eldridge. A better essay which
explains the science of punctuated equilibrium could have been chosen.

This is a book that can be read for its
discussion of science and theology as it relates to the topic of evolution
theory. The essays are all well written and contain scientific information about
evolution, summaries of the historical debates, and theological and
philosophical perspectives. It is a good volume to have for those in the
sciences and for those in theology with an interest in the evolution issue.

The title could not be passed up, but the
content of this strange volume is a disappointment. The publisher gives the
author's credentials as those of "an investor and a real estate
developer." The book itself says nothing about the author. Internet
research reveals he has a Ph.D. from Claremont in philosophy. Since writing on
marital and drug rehabilitation issues in the 1980s, he has written several
books on science/religion issues.

Claremont may have taught him well in
philosophy; his arguments for a solution to the theodicy problem takes a
classical Christian approach, and it is fairly adequate. But his
misunderstandings of the scientific enterprise, for example, mistaking
methodological naturalism for atheism (p. 42), and his embracing of
"theistic science" (on the basis of Ockham's razor, [p. 141]), makes a
good deal of the book simply useless. On page 136, he asserts that modern
science affirms scientism. Somewhere along about there I stopped reading the
book seriously and only skimmed the rest. This book is not recommended.

THE ABC OF ARMAGEDDON: Bertrand
Russell on Science, Religion, and the Next War, 1919-1938 by Peter H. Denton. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 2001. 174 + xxvi pages,
bibliographical references, and index. Hardcover; $54.50. ISBN: 0791450740.
Paperback; $20.95. ISBN: 0791450740.

Russell started writing in 1888 and wrote
mainly on logic and philosophy before and during the World War I. He wrote Principia
Mathematica 1910-1913 with Whitehead. As third earl, Russell, born
into an old noble family, was a member of the House of Lords, where he had
socialist tendencies. He tried to help establish a just society. As
an atheist, philosopher, and politician, he wrote about science, religion,
and politics. Though this book is more philosophy than science, I recommend it.

Because he hated war, he thought about
ways to prevent it. He wrote in 1923: "The Americans surpass even the
British in sagacity, apparent moderation, and the skillful use of hypocrisy by
which even they themselves are deceived" (p. 137). Against such a
formidable combination of advantages, he said, no other state could hope to be
victorious.

Denton claims that the conflict between
science and religion may be traced to two books, one published in 1874 by J. W.
Draper and one in 1896 by A. D. White. Russell quotes some philosophers who
wrote later and dismisses them because they were trying to arrive at conclusions
about reality that were based on metaphysical speculations (p. 106). According
to Russell, the theistic standpoint floundered on its inability to account for
evil in a universe created by an omnipotent God. In his opinion, there was no
more to life than physical and mechanical processes.

RELIGION AND SCIENTIFIC
NATURALISM: Overcoming the Conflicts by David Ray Griffin. Albany, NY:
State University of New York Press, 2000. 345 pages, index, notes, bibliography.
Paperback; $25.95. ISBN: 0791445631.

Griffin, Claremont professor of philosophy
of religion and theology, has written a watershed book, one that received the
2000 Book Award from the (UK-based) Scientific and Medical Network. This book
argues a Whiteheadian based philosophy for a religion that does not require
supernaturalism and a science that does not require materialism. He describes
himself as a panentheistic Christian, one who sees God as more than the universe
and yet the universe as part of God. He sees God at work in the universe in a
"persuasive" rather than in a "coercive" way.

A person can benefit from this book
without subscribing to panentheism. Both Whitehead, writing in 1925, and Griffin
see a middle ground between materialism and supernaturalism. Griffin uses the
term "theistic naturalism" for this world view. Defining two unusual,
but very specific terms, "naturalism(sam)" and "naturalism(ns),"
he argues that naturalism(ns) is sufficient for science and is compatible with a
theistic religion.

Griffin defines naturalism(ns) as being
simply a rejection of supernatural interventions which interrupt causal
relations, and naturalism(sam) as including naturalism(ns) plus sensationism,
atheism, materialism, determinism, reductionism, no causation from mind to body,
upward causation only, no transcendent source of religious experience, no
variable divine influence, and no ultimate meaning to life (nihilism). He
observes that other writers call naturalism(sam) by the names reductionistic
naturalism, materialistic naturalism, and atheistic naturalism. I would add the
terms "philosophical naturalism" and "meta- physical
naturalism." To harmonize religion and science, Griffin sees three things
as necessary: (1) They must share a world view; (2) Science must insist only on
naturalism(ns); and (3) Religion must accept naturalism(ns) as foundational.

Griffin thinks theism need not require
supernaturalism to be genuine and "robust." Contrary to the claims of
supernaturalistic theism, he believes that the basic casual principles of the
world are never interrupted. A generic idea of God includes: (1) a personal,
purposive being; (2) supreme in power; (3) perfect in goodness; (4) creator
of the world; (5) acting providentially; (6) experienced by human beings; (7)
the ultimate guarantee for the meaning life; (8) the basis for the victory of
good over evil; and (9) alone worthy of worship.

Theistic naturalism retains all nine of
these features, he says, by modifying the traditional understanding of (2), from
coercive power to persuasive power. This, in turn, modifies the traditional
meaning of (4), (5) and (8). He sees God, neither omniscient nor omnipotent, as
a casual influence on every event.

In chapter 6, Griffin addresses the
mind-body problem, asserting that it has been the central problem for modern
philosophy. We have some "hard common sense" (non-negotiable) beliefs
about ourselves, he writes, which we presuppose in practice. These include: (1)
conscious experience; (2) partial free will; (3) freedom to act on the body, and
therefore; (4) at least a degree of responsibility for our bodily actions.

While there are those who argue that
science has proven false one or more of these ideas, Griffin effectively rebuts
them, arguing that if one eliminates a belief in the reality,
self-determination, and causal efficacy of conscious experience, one's belief
still remains. If someone tells you that you should eliminate beliefs in these
three things, he must necessarily assume that: (1) You can understand what he is
saying; (2) You can freely choose, or reject, his advice; and (3) You can freely
choose, in the future, to tell others of it. To deny this is irrational, a
"performative self contradiction."

Griffin describes "Darwinian
Evolutionism," as a mix of fourteen separate ideas: (1) microevolution; (2)
macro- evolution; (3) naturalistic; (4) uniformitarianism; (5) no theistic
guidance; (6) positivism; (7) predictive (in prin- ciple) determinism. No
teleology; (8) macroevolution equated to long-term microevolution; (9) natural
selection as the sole cause; (10) gradualism; (11) nominalism;
(12) atheistic; (13) amoral; and (14) nonprogressive. Griffin accepts the
first four of these ideas, but he rejects the next ten. Griffin points out that
one implication of theistic naturalism that many will find problematic is that
it provides no basis for arguing that Christianity is "The One True
Religion." An advocate of religious pluralism, he sees this to be a
benefit, arguing that classical theism's depiction of God is, itself,
unbiblical.

This book is highly recommended to my ASA
colleagues. It is a "keeper."

Bracken aims to reconstruct the
metaphysical tradition of the West, taking into account modern thought,
especially the process-relational philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead. His
approach is based on "a logic of inter- subjectivity." An important
theme of this logic is that community in the Trinity is a pattern for community
in creation. Bracken explores the implications of this view for the relationship
between God and the world, as well as for relationships within creations.

The book ends with a chapter on "The
Need for Common Ground in the Religion and Science Debate." Part of this is
a presentation of how the mind-brain problem can be conceived in this framework.

The book is stimulating reading, even for
those who are not followers of Whitehead.

Reviewed by David T. Barnard,
University of Regina, Regina, SK, S4S 3X4 Canada.

It will not surprise readers of this
journal that one can find evidence of a broad pattern of continual seeking after
meaning in human experience. Coles says that his book explores "our secular
thinking and its constant search for moral, if not spiritual, sanction."

Coles describes the limited place of the
sacred in the twentieth century. He has wide interests, as evidenced by the
range of things he reads and references. His own construction of meaning is
interesting. For example, he summarizes part of his argument like this:

With God gone for so many intellectual
pioneers of the last two centuries, the rest of us, as students and readers,
as seekers mightily under their influence, have only ourselves left as
"objects" of attention. The theologians were supplanted by the
philosophers, the religiously committed philosophers by the skeptical, secular
philosophers, who, in turn, have been supplanted in worldwide influence by a
biologist, an economist, a psychiatrist, a physicist, each of whom (Darwin,
Marx, Freud, Einstein) has an inclination to be contemplative in a particular
secular way: to wonder about things, about the secrets that await our triumphs
of discovery.

Coles claims to be relentlessly oriented
to the future. Looking to the future, and looking for meaning in a life oriented
to the future, he describes a form of prayer.

One prays at the very least on behalf of
one's kind, though unsure, in a secular sense, to whom or what such prayer is
directed, other than, needless to say, one's own secular mind, ever needy of
an "otherness" to address through words become acts of appeal, of
worried alarm, of lively and grateful expectation: please, oh please, let
things go this way, and not in that direction--the secular mind given
introspective, moral pause, its very own kind of sanctity.

While Coles' description of the secular
mind's search for meaning is heartening, with its encouraging orientation to the
future and to others, in the end, that search comes to a different position from
what is affirmed by members of the Affiliation that sponsors this journal.

Reviewed by David T. Barnard,
University of Regina, Regina, SK, S4S 3X4 Canada.

Holmes, emeritus professor of philosophy
at Wheaton College, is a respected senior contributor to the debate about
Christian academic development. In this book, he focuses on the specific
contributions made by Christian institutions. He describes seven formative
episodes where educators faced problems and brought their faith and philosophy
to bear. In these, he sees four "recurring emphases" that he describes
as the "heart and soul" of the Christian academy. These four emphases
are: (1) the usefulness of liberal arts as preparation for service to both
church and society; (2) the unity of truth; (3) contemplative (or doxological)
learning; and (4) the care of the soul (what we call moral and spiritual
formation). Of course, many secular institutions would resonate with aspects of
these four emphases. Although in secular institutions, a range of other emphases
also would be important in making key decisions.

The seven episodes or movements considered
are the Alexandrian School, Augustine, monastery and cathedral schools, the
Scholastic university, the Reformation, Francis Bacon and modern science, and
Newman and secularization (each treated in a chapter). A final chapter considers
the twentieth century, not focusing on a specific crisis or episode, but on the
diversity of our recent history.

This stimulating book crams many ideas
into a few pages, yet it is readable and recommended.

Reviewed by David T. Barnard,
University of Regina, Regina, SK S4S 3X4 Canada.

To maintain a Christian commitment, an
educational institution must keep these three components publicly relevant: its
vision, its ethos, and the Christian persons who bear that vision and ethos. To
support this thesis, Benne divides his book into two parts. The first deals with
principles and general ideas; the second part deals with examples.

Institutions that began with specific
Christian orientations and foundations move away from them for a variety of
reasons. Benne identifies both external and internal pressures. External
pressures include the need to recruit students in an increasingly secularized
world, and the Enlightenment focus on science as the explanation of all things.
Internal pressures result from an inadequate theology with respect to the
specific mission of the institutions, as well as weak accountability and
support. In summary, "Deep down, both church leaders and faculty members no
longer believed the Christian faith to be comprehensive, unsurpassable, and
central."

Turning to examples of institutions that
have maintained their "soul," Benne begins with a typology that
identifies four variations: Orthodox, Critical-Mass, Intentionally Pluralist,
and Accidentally Pluralist. These are differentiated according to the following
aspects: major divide; public relevance of Christian vision; public rhetoric;
membership requirements; religion/theology department; religion/theology
required courses; chapel; ethos; support by church; and governance. The six
examples chosen are: a Reformed college (Calvin), an evangelical college
(Wheaton), two Lutheran schools (St. Olaf and Valparaiso), a Catholic university
(Notre Dame), and a Baptist university (Baylor). The detailed examination of
these examples leads to the conclusion stated at the beginning of the book--and
of this review--that the essence of commitment derives from vision, ethos, and
the embodiment of these in persons, especially leaders and faculty members.

This book is easy to read and compelling.
It is well researched and documented. All those interested in the
development of academic traditions will find it of value.

Reviewed by David T. Barnard,
University of Regina, Regina, SK, S4S 3X4 Canada.

WILL THE CIRCLE BE UNBROKEN?
Reflections on Death, Rebirth, and Hunger for a Faith by Studs Terkel.
New York: The New Press, 2001. 408 pages. Hardcover; $25.95. ISBN: 1565846923.

Terkel is a Pulitzer Prize winner (for The
Good War) who has recorded the thoughts and lives of ordinary people on a
variety of topics. Perhaps his most impressive research is contained in his
book, Working. In this volume, Terkel turns his attention to a topic
relevant to everyone: death. Terkel has received wide notice for this book with
reviews and interviews, including one on 60 Minutes.

This book is divided into four parts (I am
not sure why) and contains over fifty interviews. In these interviews, people
comment on their lives and perceptions of death. Included among them are people
from a variety of backgrounds: police officers, firefighters, health
professionals, an AIDS worker, a Hiroshima survivor, a death-row parolee, a
folksinger, an architect, and a retired teacher.

A church worker relates that she has read
obituaries since she was nine years old and still does. A graduate student tells
what she thinks of organized religion: "I dislike it immensely. I think
it's done more harm than good." A civil rights worker observes:
"I think one reason people are so desperate about dying is that they
haven't lived yet. ÷ I think life is miserable for most people." But
there are people who give affirmations of faith including a Dutch Reform pastor
who says when death comes, "Jesus Christ is going to be with me, He's going
to hold my hand, and he's going to walk with me through the valley of the shadow
of death."

This is not a book to give to someone who
is depressed or is seeking dogmatic answers to the big questions of life. The
ruminations by people with religious backgrounds, as well as by religiously
indifferent folk who seek meaning in life, offer no definitive answers. However,
this book illustrates above all else that most people give considerable thought
to the biblical truth that "it is appointed unto man once to die."

Terkel wrote this book after his wife
died. They had been married sixty years. Sickly and asthmatic as a child, Terkel
has survived a quintuple bypass, and at 89 years of age, indicates he might
write another book. High praise for this book from the likes of John Kenneth
Galbraith and Oliver Sacks might encourage him to do so.

Sampson, who holds a doctorate in social
sciences from the University of Southampton in England, co-edited Faith
and Modernity in 1994. Six Modern Myths discusses topics that
modern critics claim are problems for Christianity. Sampson points out that
these supposed problems are built on myths. He intends to defuse them by
demythologizing them.

The first myth is about the Galileo event.
It was claimed that Galileo, using the telescope and reason to defend the truth,
was persecuted by the church which insisted that the earth was at the center of
the universe. However, Aristotle and Ptolemy, not Christianity, were the
originators of the earth-centered theory. At Galileo's time, the observational
data did not tip the balance toward the heliocentric theory. Regarding the world
view implication, the earth-centered theory did not elevate humanity's status as
critics implied. Aristotle emphasized the corruption of the earth under the
pristine heaven. The Copernican heliocentric system rejected the idea that earth
was a cosmic sink; thus it actually elevated humanity.

The second myth concerns Darwin's
evolution theory. The myth was that heliocentric theory put humanity in
its place in the cosmos, and Darwin's theory put humanity in its place on
earth. Again, the fact of evolution can be interpreted that humanity evolved to
be the very peak of nature. Darwin claimed that evolution enables humanity to
progress toward perfection. Regarding the scientific evidence, the theory of
evolution as proposed by Darwin did not have sufficient data to convince most
eminent scientists during his lifetime. The mixed reception in the religious
circle was similar to that of the scientific community. It took about
seventy-five years before the evolution theory was accepted by the scientific
world.

The third myth is about the Christian
exploitation of nature. This myth blames the ecological crisis on the Christian
teaching of humans' mastery over nature and on the subsequent emergence of
exploitative technologies in the Western countries. However, the concept of
using nature for the benefit of humanity was originated by Aristotle. The
anthropocentric idea of domination was common in ancient Greek and Roman
philosophies. The exploitation of the environment is not only a modern
phenomenon and not a feature unique to Western culture.

The fourth myth concerns the stories of
oppression of other races and their cultures by missionaries. The error of this
myth came from the identification of Western civilization with Christianity.
Missionaries accepted the idea of a common humanity and treated the native
people with more dignity than their own national governments did. Many
missionaries preached against the exploitation of natives by the colonial
governments and the slave trade. Regarding the change of cultures, the naive and
romantic idea of innocent native cultures was unsubstantiated, and the process
was caused more by Enlightenment and evolutionary ideologies.

The fifth myth is about the suppression of
the human body. It was claimed that Christianity considered the body as evil, so
many natural desires were suppressed through church teaching. However, the idea
of sinful flesh came from the Greek philosopher Plato. He also proposed that man
is the "superior sex." The alliance between Greek thought and
Christian understanding existed throughout the Medieval period and was corrected
by Protestant Reformers. The real effect of Christianity included the equality
of genders and the stability of families.

The sixth myth concerns the persecution of
witches. The myth claimed that religious superstition and intolerance caused the
persecution of these women. However, the number of witchcraft prosecutions was
exaggerated, and the church was not the prime mover in the prosecution of
witches. Instead, both Catholic and Protestant churches were found to have a
moderating effect on these prosecutions. The incidents at Salem, MA, during the
Puritan period was not typical.

This book provides much information to
counter the six modern myths which accuse the Christian faith of many wrongs.
The research and documentation are excellent. It may deflate the accusation of
the sin of commission, but it may not extricate the church from the sins of
omission. Since Western civilization was intertwined with Christian faith, the
church could have and should have exerted more moral influence.

Davydov completed his Ph.D. in 1967 at the
Moscow Institute of Energy. In 1977 he graduated from the University of
Marxism-Leninism in "scientific" atheism. In 1990, Davydov emigrated
to the United States where he is now a Christian, a full member of the New
York Academy of Sciences, and President of the International Science Center in
Brooklyn.

The book under review has two parts:
"God and the World" and "Six Biblical Days." Part I
discusses the relationship between a transcendental God and the physical world
while Part II is a scientific interpretation of the six days of Genesis.

The book is fascinating to read because of
the author's knowledge of the communist atheistic propaganda concerning science
and religion. The communists were irrevocably opposed to the Big Bang as the
origin of the universe since it contradicted their materialistic beliefs.
However, in 1977, the communists capitulated (twelve years after the acceptance
of the Big Bang in the West with the discovery of the cosmic background
radiation in 1965). It is no accident that Davydov graduated in
"scientific" atheism in 1977 when the communists were preparing their
scientists to acknowledge the Big Bang.

Davydov's emphasis in Part I of the book
is that God is outside the materialistic universe. We all recall the
impression the first cosmonaut Gagarin made when he announced he could find no
God during his trip into space. This was the kind of evidence the Soviet Union
was using to prove that there is no God. Davydov thus uses scientific arguments
to demonstrate that God must be outside the physical universe so that he would
not be discovered by cosmonauts.

However, the science Davydov uses is not
easily translated into Western science. For example, on pages 92 and 94, Davydov
refers to a "fundamental law of nature" which states that relative
matter cannot exist in space and time without its absolute opposite,
which exists outside of any space or any time. This must be a law of Communist
science; it is not a recognizable law of Western science. It must be said
here, however, that the leading Soviet scientists use Western science and,
indeed, were pioneers in the understanding of the Big Bang in spite of communist
orthodoxy.

"The fundamental law of nature"
is not an isolated instance of the strangeness of Davydov's science. On page 97,
Davydov refers to "the three scientific laws of nature." The first
scientific law is that no material system can exist eternally. But this law of
nature did not prevent the proposal of the Steady State Universe by Bondi, Gold
and Hoyle, three highly respected physicists. Eventually, the Steady State
Universe was abandoned because of experimental evidence. It was not abandoned
because it violated the first of the three scientific laws of nature.

Davydov gives the second scientific law of
nature as the cause of the formation or birth of a given material system always
lies outside the system. This law is not like Newton's law of gravity
or Maxwell's laws of electromagnetism where values for masses or charges are
inserted and forces or fields are calculated. The law is more similar to the
Second Law of Thermodynamics which states that certain things are impossible.
But, in none of these physical laws, is "cause" considered. Davydov's
second scientific law appears to be more a philosophical principle than a
scientific law based on experimental evidence.

Davydov's third scientific law is that
matter in the universe develops in a highly purposeful way. This law is not
generally accepted, particularly by evolutionists. Until recently, the National
Association of Biology Teachers has defined evolution as being a
"purposeless" process. While this claim has been withdrawn, it was not
withdrawn because the claim was acknowledged to be wrong but because the claim
could not be proven.

The same kind of scientific difficulties
are associated with Part II of the book. Enough examples have been presented to
convince the reader that the message of the book is difficult to accept because
of the different kind of science used by Davydov.

However, I am glad that I have had the
opportunity to review the book. Only a Christian scientist educated in the
Soviet system has the knowledge and understanding to expose the dishonest and
fallacious arguments used by the Soviet Union to discredit the Bible. For this
exposure, we all owe Davydov our thanks and admiration.

Tucker has chosen a difficult task in
trying to unravel the mystery of belief and unbelief. While she may not have
totally succeeded, she does offer some stimulating insights and illustrative
anecdotes. The author identifies variables which play a role in faith and its
absence, but it is unclear why these variables affect people in such different
ways.

What are some of the variables in belief
and unbelief? Tucker identifies many variables including reflections on the
Bible, history, science, philosophy, theology, biblical criticism, psychology,
social issues, God, and Christians. One factor she identifies which drives
people from faith is the conclusion that God is inactive in both their own lives
and the events of the world. "Losing faith is one way of responding to
God's silence in the face of pain and suffering" (p. 153). When people
conclude, often with sorrow and pain, that God is absent in the world, atheism
or agnosticism follows.

Tucker gives many examples of faith
abandonment along with the ostensible reasons. The most famous example is Chuck
Templeton, a friend of Billy Graham. After conducting successful evangelistic
campaigns, Chuck walked away from faith because he found it impossible "to
believe that there is anything that could be described as a loving God who could
allow what happens in our world daily" (p. 39).

Of all the reasons Tucker gives for the
loss of faith, perhaps the Achilles' heel of faith--its greatest conundrum,
puzzle, enigma, riddle (whatever it may be called)-- relates to the problem of
pain (or evil) in the world. The puzzle is this: if God is all powerful, he
could stop the pain; if God is all loving, he should want to stop the pain. But
there is pain in the world. Why? Despite the many books written on the subject
by both theologians and philosophers, no adequate explanation has been agreed
upon.

Tucker points out that Christians have
developed an impressive array of apologetic responses to unbelief. However, as
she frequently shows in her examples, these are rejected because the evidence is
equivocal. This is illustrated by a philosopher who said that if he could say
one thing to God, it would be: "Not enough evidence." Of course, if
the evidence in the debate overwhelmingly supported one side, there would be no
debate.

I particularly like the way Tucker deals
with those who lose faith. She is sympathetic, compassionate, and understanding.
She confesses that she never saw an atheist she disliked. She sees clearly the
reasons faith falters, because she herself has struggled with unbelief. She is
candid and honest when she wonders if the Christian college where she taught
would have terminated her if they realized the extent of her struggle with
faith. Tucker reflects this struggle with a quote from F. H. Jacobi: "I ÷
am a heathen in my reason and a Christian with my whole heart" (p. 26).

For some, as Tucker indicates, the fact
that confessing Christians lose faith may present a dilemma for the Calvinist.
She suggests two explanations: either the individual was never a believer or
still is. But she writes that this seems to fly in the face of avowed disbelief
by those who walk away from faith. Perhaps Tucker's last chapter entitled
"Real Stories of Returning to Faith" gives a glimmer of hope to those
Calvinists who believe in the "P" of TULIP.

I was unaware of some of the information
Tucker presents: the traumatic struggle people go through to hang on to faith;
the number of web sites dedicated to this topic; the significant number of
books, many autobiographical, written on this topic. If you are interested in
further study of this subject, Tucker's bibliography will be of great
assistance. She lists about 75 books on the topic. Tucker's book has an index,
but it is truncated and omits many topics.

Tucker is associate professor of
missiology at Calvin Theological Seminary. The author of fourteen books, she has
also served as a missionary and a college teacher. Tucker has written a
difficult, but needed book. It will help and inform those on both sides of this
important issue.

Is there a god? What happens when you die?
Can science save your soul? Questions like this are answerable in secular terms,
as well as religious. The humanistic creator of Star Trek, Gene
Roddenberry, tackled such questions frequently in the American success story
that is Star Trek; in doing so he necessarily incorporated religious
concepts. The three authors, all professors of religious/human studies at
different academic institutions, created this volume with the intent of using it
as a text in teaching religion. The book examines the history of the four Star
Trek TV series and the nine feature films, examining how its views on
religious topics changed over the years as the American culture evolved.

Perhaps all Americans can fairly be
divided into two camps: those who are "Trekkies" and those who are
not. Again, perhaps all Americans can be divided into two other camps: those
Christians who are very much interested in liberal religious studies and those
who are not. My guess is that the intersection of these two classifications (Trekkie
Christians studying liberal religion) is not large. It is that intersection, of
course, that the book targets. For such persons, the book might be interesting.

This book could have been written as an
evangelistic outreach, perhaps in the genre of C. S. Lewis. I see nothing in it,
however, that would tempt a secular reader, even a die-hard Trekkie, to take
religious issues any more seriously after reading it than before. Indeed, by
"explaining" some of the puzzling events of earth history as entirely
materially based, the book probably will have a negative effect on the critical
thinking which one wishes was possessed by every seeker after answers to
ultimate questions.

If you are a Trekkie, the book may be
worth reading, although probably not worth owning. It should have been titled
"A Christian Vision of Star Trek: Going Where No Ethos Was Meant to
Go."

BETWEEN EDEN AND ARMAGEDDON: The
Future of World Religions, Violence, and Peace Making by Marc Gopin.
New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. 312 pages, index. Hardcover; $35.00.
ISBN: 019513432X.

It would seem that since the end of the
Cold War, religion--especially in its most conservative manifestations-- has
been the major source of violence and destructive conflict in the world. Is this
really the case? Gopin, a consultant, researcher, and trainer in conflict
resolution and a Jewish rabbi, addresses this question in Between Eden and
Armageddon and offers readers a nuanced understanding of the relationship
of religion and violence.

The short answer is: "Yes, but."
To be sure, Gopin notes, religion has been "a major contributor to war,
bloodshed, hatred, and violence." Specifically, the more
"conservative, strident--fundamentalist, if you will--expressions of modern
religion" have been the ones "to evoke the most conflict and violence
in the modern world." But religion is also a "barometer of social
dissatisfaction" and, as such, should be understood as a diagnostician of
society's failings. Gopin, moreover, suggests ways in which religion might
actually lead the way in creating peaceful societies.

What Gopin is really attempting in this
book is to integrate the study of religion with the social science of conflict
resolution, indeed, to outline the contours of a new field of study: religion
and peacemaking. This is no small task. Constructive engagement between
religious systems and conflict resolution faces many barriers. The field of
conflict resolution has a rationalist, cosmopolitan bias that appeals to liberal
religious orientations and Western notions of tolerance and pluralism. But, as
we all know, "many religious people around the world do not share this
universal, 'secular' moral discourse."

Gopin is perhaps most helpful in exploring
the very different universe of religious contexts that are rooted in premodern
categories of thinking and feeling. Often these are outlooks of "buried
injuries, resentments, and highly adversarial interactions with the rest of the
world" held together by a very vivid perception and fear of cultural
annihilation. It is vital, Gopin rightly argues, for peacemakers to bridge the
gap "between the angrier expressions of each religion and the rest of the
world." And traditional methods of conflict resolution based upon rational
dialogue, he predicts, will prove woefully inadequate.

Using several interesting case studies and
specific examples, Gopin argues that constructive engagement between conflict
resolution and religion can only occur if we ask a new set of questions
regarding religion and violence, ones no longer based on why and when things
go wrong, but on why or when things go right. One of Gopin's major points
is the necessity of using theological notions to help construct ethical outlooks
wherein "nonbelievers can coexist equally in a given society." This
amounts to nothing short of the "humanization of the Other" and
"the treatment of the Other with absolute dignity." Here it is
imperative either to recover or to develop myths and stories from various
religious traditions to replace some of the darker concept of religious identity
that depend upon the existence of "a demonic enemy who must be
eliminated." Easier said than done.

This is a challenging and dense book about
a topic of enormous significance. While it assumes some prior knowledge of
conflict resolution theory, the generalist will certainly profit from it. His
chapter on Judaism and conflict resolution provides a wealth of information that
is very helpful in understanding the context of the current violence in Israel
and the Palestinian Authority.

Gopin's dream that "religion can play
a critical role in constructing a global community of shared moral
commitments" is a noble one. I am just not as sanguine as Gopin about
either a solution to the "seemingly intractable religious militancy"
or the prospects for religious peacemaking. I hope I am wrong.

This is a great book. It is masterfully
written, well-documented, and unfolds in places with the grace and flow of a
novel. As the title suggests, the book is an attempt to explain how we have come
to understand that mental health and physical health are related.

Sternberg is eminently qualified to write
on this topic and plays a significant role in the story that she tells in the
book. The Director of the Molecular, Cellular, and Behavioral Integrative Neuro-Science
Program, she heads the section on Neuroendocrine Immunology and Behavior at the
National Institute of Mental Health and National Institutes of Health. She has
won the Public Health Service Superior Service Award and has written over one
hundred scientific papers or views and book chapters on the subject of brain
immune connections, including articles in Scientific American and
Nature Medicine.

The book is organized historically, which
is very helpful for this cutting-edge subject. Sternberg starts with a
discussion of very early notions of health, such as those held by physicians in
classical Greece. At that time, the influence of emotions on disease seems to
have been greatly appreciated, even though the science of medicine was
relatively unsophisticated. She outlines the history of medicine in some
detail through several chapters and then introduces Descartes as the culprit who
split apart the emotional and physical in the infamous "Cartesian
dualism." This split was so dramatic that it created two unrelated and
uncommunicating specialties: medical doctors who study illnesses of the body;
and psychiatrists who study illnesses of the mind. She articulates the breakdown
of Cartesian dualism as researchers on each side of the Cartesian divide
repeatedly encountered influences coming from the other side of the mind/body
barrier.

Sternberg's own specialty relates to the
immune system. In a couple of chapters, she outlines the scientific developments
which made it clear that the brain-immune "system" is a two-way
street. She gives historical examples in which the immune system and the brain
communicate.

Sternberg brings her subject into the
present with her discussion of the important role that social life plays in
disease. She shows how having a healthy network of social and familial support
provides measurable health benefits. She describes some of the recent studies
that have shown a connection between religious belief and health. She argues
that, although the phenomena may be entirely explicable in terms of the placebo
effect, the intuition of religious people praying for health is effective.

The book concludes with an exhortation to
the medical community to continue to move in the direction of treating patients
holistically. Sternberg calls for medical doctors to pay especially close
attention to patients' descriptions of their mental and emotional states.

The book succeeds on a number of levels.
Although, like any book dealing with medical science or biology,
it can get aggressively poly-syllabic in places, and there
are chapters where a number of acronyms are introduced that pose some
challenges for the nonspecialist. In general, however, the book is so well
written and so authoritative that it will repay any reader who is looking for a
good introduction to this important and emerging discussion of the relationship
between physical and mental health.

WHERE GOD LIVES: The Science of
the Paranormal and How Our Brains Are Linked to the Universe by Melvin Morse. New York: Harper Collins Publishers. 190 pages. Paperback; $13.00. ISBN:
0061095044.

Morse is a practicing pediatrician in
Seattle who had worked intensively with children with near death experiences.
This is his fourth book and he has appeared twice on the Oprah Winfrey show.

His basic thesis is that children who have
had near death experience (NDE) become more creative, compassionate,
disciplined, even-tempered, and altruistic. He credits this to the stimulation
of the right temporal lobe during NDEs. Morse is aware that mock NDE experiences
can be created in the lab which also cause the subject to have a sense of being
out-of-the-body and feeling bathed by Divine Light. However, he is no
materialist and believes that NDE are real spiritual encounters with God. He
calls the right temporal lobe the spot in our brain that communicates with God.

To document his stories, Morse covers too
many topics such as memory, homeopathy, hauntings, past life readings, the power
of prayer, hypnotism, psychic phenomenon and so on. The lack of footnotes make
it hard to check Morse's stories. What if it could be documented scientifically
that subjects who had NDE really saw things while unconscious that they could
only see if they really were outside their body? This would poke a hole through
naturalism so large as to cause naturalism to sink. Advocates of naturalism are
fully aware of this and work diligently to try to discredit such findings. This
book, which is written for lay audiences, does not present enough documented
evidence to persuade a scientist that there is more to the mind than the brain.
But it does have an excellent bibliography for further reading on all sides of
the mind/body debate.

This book is a revised and expanded
edition that seeks to bring insight from modern science to managerial practices.
Wheatley's thesis is that a new era of leadership can be ushered in by applying
quantum science to management theory. An audio book of the 1992 edition is
available.

Wheatley is enamored with science, but she
has in mind an unusual understanding of science heavily featuring the works of
Fritjof Capra. The premise of the book is that science has profoundly influenced
society, and based on recent discoveries in particle physics, this trend will
continue. Wheatley believes that an analogous quantum leap forward will occur in
managerial practices by applying insight from modern science.

Each chapter summarizes an area of
science, often interspersed with anecdotal managerial practices, culminating in
some great insight into how science provides support for Wheatley's new
managerial practices. She is so convinced that science will herald a new era in
leadership that she has "spent hours staring at [s-matrix diagrams
describing particle physics], knowing they have something to teach me about
organizational structure and how we might chart roles and relationships
differently" (p. 71). This sure beats astrology.

The science vignettes tend to be
simplistic synopses that suffer from over-analysis by a nonscientist. For
example, Wheatley believes that "the Second Law of Thermodynamics applies
only to isolated or closed systems, to machines, for example. The most obvious
exception to this law is life" (p. 77). Having exempted life from the
second law of thermodynamics she moves on to declare that "the source of
life is new information--novelty--ordered into new structures. We need to have
information coursing through our systems, disturbing the peace, imbuing
everything it touches with the possibility of new life" (p. 96). Now these
statements may appear contradictory but "if this is hard to comprehend,
remember that the quantum realm is weird even to scientists" (p. 41).

Amazingly, after using concrete examples
from science, Wheatley concludes the final, more philosophical, chapter with
some stunning comments. "If we look at ourselves truthfully in the light of
this fire and stop being so serious about getting things 'right'--as if there
were still an objective reality out there--we can engage in life differently,
more playfully" (p. 162).

The book provides numerous illustrations
demonstrating the dangers of scientism. Unfortunately, many people without
expertise in science will be unable to recognize that Wheatley's analysis has
serious problems. "Perhaps these are just the ramblings of one whose mind
has gone fuzzy (like all quantum phenomena) from trying to understand quantum
physics" (p. 73). Perfect insight.

The theme of this book is well expressed
by its subtitle, "The Quantum Mind and the Meaning of Life." The
author wants to find the meaning of life from quantum mechanics. Like so many in
our postmodern generation, he starts out with an easy dismissal of historical
Christianity: "Can anyone who claims to be rational today--when religion no
longer serves as an explanation of where we came from or how we got this
way--believe that anyone was raised from the dead?" He openly embraces
science, in particular, physics, as the new religion, the new absolute truth.
But this leaves a problem: How do we fill that void in our hearts? Throughout
the book, Walker includes vignettes of how the death of his girlfriend caused
him to ask deep questions: "Where is home? Is there any home?"
"What are we really?" "Where do we go for salvation?" Walker
finds the answers in a religion which he says is scientific: Zen Buddhism. After
scoffing at the idea of the Resurrection as irrational, he finds the following
statements to be perfectly wise:

The student Doko came to a Zen master
and said, "I am seeking the truth. In what state of mind should I train
myself, so as to find it?"

Said the master, "There is no mind,
so you cannot put it in any state. There is no truth, so you cannot find
it."

"If there is no mind and no truth
to find, then why do you have these monks gather before you every day to study
Zen and train themselves for this study?"

"But I haven't a inch of room
here," said the master, "so how could the monks gather? I have no
tongue, so how could I call them together to teach them?"

"Oh, how can you lie like
this?" asked Doko.

"But if I have no tongue, how can I
lie to you?" asked the master.

Then Doko said sadly, "I cannot
follow you. I cannot understand you."

"I cannot understand myself,"
said the master.

Christianity is foolishness, but this is
wisdom to the postmodern man. Walker has written another book in what is now an
industry of books mixing New Age religion with much hand-waving,
mysterious-sounding explanations of Quantum Mechanics and cosmology,
a trend started with books like The Tao of Physics and The Dancing
Wu Li Masters. The heart of these books is a complete embracing of the
Copenhagen interpretation of Quantum Mechanics, which says that mental
observations cause jumps in the quantum mechanical wave functions. Because some
well-known scientists have taught this interpretation, the mind-over-matter
connection is taken as an incontrovertible deduction of absolute Science. The
Copenhagen interpretation is not a deduction from the data, however, but an
interpretation put on the data, and many, if not most scientists today, reject
the Copenhagen interpretation.

Space does not allow me to give an
overview of modern interpretations of Quantum Mechanics, but suffice it to
say that most quantum physicists I know do not put the human mind in such a
special role; they would say that the interaction of particles with any
macroscopic system would give the same type of quantum jumps.

Even if one accepts the Copenhagen
interpretation, however, it is a long way to the leaps of imagination which
Walker and other similar writers accomplish. Walker says that the idea that
"1/10 of 1%" of our minds are shared in common with other people's
minds is "forced on us by physics." He goes from this to the
conclusion, also found in other similar New Age/Quantum books, that we are God
and God is us. This allows him the comforting conclusion that his deceased
girlfriend is still with him and in him. Some people may find comfort in these
ideas and Zen philosophy, but it is utter nonsense to say that physics forces us
to accept these beliefs.

About two-thirds of the way through the
book, Walker adds a few new twists. As a brain scientist, he gives an overview
of the workings of the brain and argues that the fact that electrons must
tunnel quantum mechanically across synapses proves that Copenhagen mind-over-
matter choices occur in the brain. Quantum mechanical tunneling through barriers
is a ubiquitous phenomenon, however, and Walker gives no evidence why tunneling
in the brain has cosmic implications while tunneling in, say, a mammal
liver or in electrical tunneling diodes or in the decay of radioactive
elements does not. In particular, Walker does not address the important quantum
mechanical issue of coherence. According to his calculations, seven
electrons must tunnel across a synapse at the same time to give a signal. If
these electrons do not tunnel coherently, that is, with correlated wave
functions, then the information of their wave functions will be lost, and the
signal will be no different from any other electrical signal. From my own study
of biophysics, I can say that almost certainly the tunneling in the neurons is
incoherent and therefore not intrinsically different from any other electrical
signals.

Walker also proposes some radical new
ideas in physics, without alerting the reader to just how radical these ideas
are. He proposes a change in the Dirac equation which would allow a
consciousness term; he also argues that the Arrow of Time (our sense of time
passing) is not related to the Second Law of Thermodynamics. A change in the
equations of Quantum Mechanics would be a truly revolutionary step deserving a
Nobel prize; so far no one has succeeded at such a program. In the case of the
Arrow of Time, Walker argues that quantum state jumps give the direction of
time. One might argue this, but it is not the standard view and relies, again,
on the assumption that the observation/quantum-jump process of the Copenhagen
interpretation is the central fact of physics. By contrast, many quantum
physicists are working in the opposite direction--trying to show that the Second
Law leads to the appearance of quantum jumps.

Interestingly, Walker gives support to
Intelligent Design theorists in several places when he, as a brain scientist,
speaks of how the nerves in the brain are "tailor-made" or
"designed" for thought. He does not address where this design comes
from, but he feels comfortable talking of design. This is my experience with
many biophysicists who have spoken at the University of Pittsburgh--they quite
freely use phrases like "design" and "fine-tuning" to
describe the processes, and do not feel they are being unscientific in doing so.

The main value of this book is in the
modern discussion of brain synapses; the New Age philosophy is quite standard by
now and can be found in numerous other, similar books.

We have manifold evidence that Homo
sapiens is a very violent species. And there is no shortage of notions as
to why that is the case. In this book, Bellinger argues that Sfren Kierkegaard
should be added to the list of thinkers who help us to make sense of political
violence in history. Bellinger, a theological librarian and an ethics professor
at Brite Divinity School, demonstrates convincingly that Kierkegaard is a
rich--and largely overlooked--resource for understanding the roots of violence.

Bellinger anchors the Kierkegaardian
understanding of violence in the uniquely human experience of angst (anxiety,
fear), which--contra David Hume and Ernest Becker-- does not arise out of fear
of death. Rather, angst is the product of human beings coming into existence as
spiritual creatures. The call to live in genuine communion with God is the call
of creation drawing individuals into more mature forms of selfhood.
Nevertheless, humans resist the call because immature egos experience it as
angst-producing pressure. Sin, according to this understanding, is a function of
"ego protection" and has its origins in "the illegitimate way
human beings try to control or reduce their feelings of angst" (p. 6).
Humans in this angst state are desperately seeking to control their own
selfhood, but they succeed only in avoiding the possibility of spiritual growth.
The inward pressures to become more mature persons generate frustration and
anger that is the root of violence toward others. Instead of addressing their
internal alienation, humans project their anger outward. He states:

When an entire society is made up of
persons who exist in this psychological state, the society as a whole acts on
the basis of this spiritual sickness. The society develops the need to
identify and attack an Enemy. The society selects scapegoats and sacrifices
them as a way of reinforcing its impulse to ego-protection (p. 67).

The Genealogy of Violence is a
thoughtful work of theology, one that both contributes to the literature on
Kierkegaard and explores the basic elements of a Christian understanding of
violence. But Bellinger's project is much more ambitious conceptually. He is
deeply concerned with questions related to what historian George Marsden has
labeled "the outrageous idea of Christian scholarship." Specifically,
Bellinger argues that Christian theology can be expanded into a fully developed
social science, one that approaches the empirical data of human behavior from a
theological interpretive framework. Doing so, Bellinger maintains, promises to
yield more satisfactory insights than a thoroughly secular social science
limited by "methodological atheism." He asserts that mainstream social
science is bound to a "flattened secular landscape" that rules out the
most critical factor to understanding the human condition: the self exists
before God (pp. 92-3). Consequently, "secular approaches to social
understanding are self-crippling; they can never comprehend the human condition
adequately" (p. 8).

These are extremely provocative claims,
and although I wish Bellinger had developed them further, he is to be commended
for his bold critique of the limitations of "methodological atheism."
He is, I believe, entirely correct to suggest "that the closure to
transcendence inherent in methodological atheism prevents its theorists from
fully understanding the phenomenon they are seeking to grasp" (p. 96). It
is important to recognize, however, both the limiting and the enabling nature of
"methodological atheism." The reductionistic methodologies of the
sciences have been wildly successful when employed in the service of relatively
circumscribed questions that lend themselves to empirical investigation. There
is nothing untoward about the stance of "methodological atheism" for a
vast array of problems ranging from fixing one's car to examining spectral lines
in distant stars.

The rub, of course, comes when
reductionistic methodologies are pressed inappropriately into service to provide
authoritative and often exclusive answers to questions that probe the deeper
meanings of human experience. Clearly, those questions require all the
knowledge, insight, and wisdom we can muster. If the kind of Christian
scholarship that Bellinger seems to be advancing involves a genuinely
transdisciplinary dialogue within the academy wherein theology provides an
important interpretative lens for scientific inquiry, I am in full agreement. I
fear that anything less than this--whether it be a functional
compartmentalization of faith and science, a so-called dialogue between science
and religion that patronizes theology or tries to bully it into accommodationist
stances, or a hybridized empirical-theological method (whatever that might
be)--does not respect the enormous potential of science and theology in full
dialogue. Given the demands of attempting to understand the human experience,
better make additional room at the table for some historians, artists, and
poets. They will come in handy.

Walter Brueggemann recommends this volume,
and for many, that is reason enough to read it. Written by two Roman Catholic
laymen, one an economist, the other a philosopher, its primary focus is on
Catholicism and Pope John Paul II's Centesimus Annus, promulgated in
1991. There is also an assessment of several similar Protestant position papers.

The authors begin with a consideration of
the chaplaincy function within the U.S. military, arguing that, in many ways, it
not only subordinates the function of Christianity to military structures and
goals but also is, itself, counter-productive to the Christian message. They
then extend this analysis to corporations, who use (misuse)
"spirituality" concepts to further their own capitalistic goals and
structures. If that were not sufficiently disconcerting, they also discuss how
the churches (in this case, primarily the Roman Catholic church) have abandoned
their historical role as a critic of the structures of society to become
advocates and supporters of those structures. In so doing, they argue, they are
"losing their souls," in the sense in which Stephen Carter uses that
term in his recent book, God's Name In Vain. For those who have read
Carter's book, this work is a natural sequel.

The book makes excellent reading for those
who are alarmed to see modern Christianity becoming synonymous with the
celebration of "America." The authors show how the political and
economic forces in our society that see prosperity and comfort as the highest
goals have infiltrated the churches, leading them to become agents of programs
not properly part of the Christian message. In short, their goal in this book is
to show "÷ how the workings of the world economy in particular steer the
Christian gospel and its expressions into safe, domesticated forms" (p.
24). "John Paul's logical starting point ÷ as expressed in Centesimus
is that of all liberal theorists from Hobbes and Locke to Rawls: the individual
person ÷ [His] argument is indistinguishable from that of Locke in The
Second Treatise of Government" (p. 114). They see the Centesimus
as confused, using a "phony distinction" (p. 117) by constructing a
framework in which Christians can supposedly hold a primary allegiance to both
Christ and the state. These two goals cannot both be maximized, they assert, and
if a person tries to do so he or she must seriously compromise one or the other.
Seeing the church as simply a corporate citizen of the state makes it inevitable
that the state's structures will dominate.

This book is recommended for ASA members
who are Roman Catholics. It is also worthwhile reading for the rest of us, for
those who see Christianity as properly in the role of a critic of the structures
of society, never as an advocate. For those who conflate Christianity and
"America" as synonymous, the book will be an offense.

A sampling of the views of the authors,
leaders in the Ekklesia Project, an ecumenical organization, may be seen on the
Internet at <www.ekklesiaproject.org>.

Brown refers to the so-called "Sokal"
affair, based on an article Sokal wrote in 1996. The article was a hoax because
Sokal wanted to rescue left-wing politics from idiotic thinking. This is
expressed in the Preface:

The dichotomy of an anti-science Left
against a pro- science Right is a common perception. Snow misread his
scientists (in 1959) and we very likely misread ours today. The real value of
the now infamous Sokal affair is to bust this simple-minded dichotomy and give
some elbow room to a left-wing alternative that is (with important
qualifications) broadly pro- science.

Brown thinks the argument revolves around
epistemology because good epistemology ultimately influences government. As
Brown observes, the winner of the "science wars" will have an
unprecedented influence on how we are governed, mentioning as examples, the
environment and the alarming increase of commercialization of science, thus
patenting knowledge to the possible detriment of science. The science wars will
only be settled after we first "explore the issues of objectivity, values,
and social influences. Then we can move on."

The point is, of course, that
"objectivity" and "values" are terms based on certain
philosophical assumptions. Brown spends a complete chapter dealing with these
assumptions revolving around words like "realism,"
"objectivity," and "values." This is a useful book for those
interested in the politics of science and how epistemology relates to it.